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Category: Poem

I’ve been thinking about Isaiah 62 this week. So I rewrote the prayer to be used kin the town/area I live. It is a poem but to condense the size I have written it in prose. Let me know what you think.

Because I love this place, this space, I will not be motionless, emotionless. My very being cries out for this place. I will speak out, I will sing out, I will move in, breathe in. I will hold her in my very conversations, in all my communications, until she is known for her wondrous ways for bringing you glory, honor and praise. The nations will wonder and copy her demeanour, the world from her will follow your ways. She will be your child. Helps in he depth of your heart, precious and true, known just for glorifying you. Never again will she be known as the backwater or the godless, the hopeless, the lifeless or the waste. She will be known as your land, your hand, hallowed ground. You will walk amongst us, we will know your light. All will gather, all will know, all will rejoice. They will rejoice in you, for you, with you.

Here in this place, I have posted watchmen on your walls, in the pub, the clubs, the howling green. I have posted watchmen in the cornershop, the WI, the local school. I have posted watchmen in the cinema, the leisure centre and the cafe. They are there in the supermarket, the hospitals, the taxi’s the gyms. They are there on your streets, they are neighbours and strangers and friends. Watchmen posted on every street corner. And they have a secret. The worst kept secret, they will not keep silent, they will not stop, they will not tire, they will not be worn down and they will not cease. They will pray as if time has no meaning. They are constantly at the feet of Christ, at the foot of the cross, crying out to the King for his mercy, his help, his work. It is his promise, the covenant, his oath not to leave us, to care and love us.

Let us therefore not stay shut-up. let us not stay secret. Let us open our doors, and prepare pur streets, put up the banners, the flags, prepare the PA and dust of our glad rags. Practice our dance moves and our choruses, tune up, brush down. Prepare. Prepare. Prepare. Declare the glory of the King’s party, the feast, the disco, the rave, the communion. Declare. Declare. Declare. Share the invitation. The message from him to this land. It is coming. The time of his children, the time of his people, a time of revelation and a time of revelling. . We will be called your people, those that live by your light, ones that know your glory.

Clearing out my laptop sharing the poem and thoughts – mostly half finished so they’re gone from my computer but not lost forever.

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Find the soul of the lostTaste the hour that eclipsesKnow that tomorrows walk will add blisters on to blistersTime shall not bear easy on youNor shall the road be smoothFight for tooth and nail upon the rocky pathFor tomorrow will not be easierBut maybe it won’t be harder